Sunday, February 26, 2012

I'm often a creature of habit. To an embarrassing degree. In theory I am in favor of change -- but when it affects the constants of my own life, I tend to reconsider. I get huge comfort from the familiar, sometimes even clinging to it when it's a bad idea (when I should, you know, select something more growth-inducing instead). But I try to shake out of my routine. And there's nothing like a good trip to do it.

At home, I often have trouble breaking out of my usual work-write-cook-sleep-insomnia regimen. But last weekend I traveled to the Bay Area to celebrate my birthday with dear friends, and remembered how much fun change can be (and how I can minimize my aaah-things-are-different anxiety with trusted companions and stiff cocktails). I traded in the wintery slog of Portland for breezy sunshine. I picked meyer lemons off the tree, lingered at a museum, hiked windy bluffs, had a frighteningly thorough scrub at a Korean spa, and ate out more in 5 days than I normally do in several months. It was great fun, all of it. And amidst the adventure, I did get in a bit of cooking. Including these quesadillas.

As befitting the new-experiences-of-vacation mindset, these are like nothing I've ever had before. They're undeniably rich, thanks to the butter and sour cream, but are also light, with a moist, short texture. They take savory cheese (we used a dry old wedge of romano), and put it in a lightly sweet context. And they are, hands down, my favorite snack to enjoy with a cup of coffee. Change, you are delicious.

In a mixing bowl, cream together the flour and sugar until light and fluffy. Add the eggs, one by one, mixing until incorporated and scraping down the sides as needed. Add the sour cream and cheese, mix, and then add the rice flour mixture (since this is gluten-free, you don't have to worry about making the muffins tough). Pour mixture evenly into muffin cups, then top with the sesame seeds.

Bake until set and just beginning to color, ~15-20 minutes. Let cool, and then enjoy with a cup of tea or coffee.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

If you spend time in certain circles (those of the vegan persuasion), at some point someone will try to get you to eat a foul-sounding "pie" made of melted chocolate chips and tofu. This friend will assure you that it is phenomenal, that it tastes just like a chocolate silk pie, and has none of that nasty soy aftertaste. This person will be wrong on all counts.

But there is a way to make a delicious vegan chocolate pie that tastes good. And I don't mean "good by vegan standards" -- I mean "good." Like this pie. Seriously, look at it. Don't you want a bite?

This pie follows the basic chocolate cream pie template, using the solid-at-room-temperature cocoa butter of chocolate to stabilize an airy whipped topping (I used a commercial vegan cream replacement that whips up like cream, but only because my dining companion balked at the delicious saturated fat of coconut cream -- you can substitute that instead for a slightly denser but perhaps more delicious result). I added a layer of smooth peanut butter-coconut cream filling as well (because isn't every chocolate dessert better with peanut butter?), and poured it into an almond meal crust (though you can easily use your favorite cookie crumb crust instead). And to gild the lily I topped everything with the salty-sweet snap of candied peanuts.

And if this isn't enough sweetness for you, you can check out my story on the almond-and-cream deliciousness of Swedish Shrove Tuesday semlor over at NPR. It's a lovely practice, but truth be told I think this vegan pie might be even more delicious. I know, who am I these days?

To make the candied peanuts: Have a cookie sheet at the ready. Mix the sugar and water in a medium skillet over a medium-high flame, until the sugar melts and dissolves. Add the peanuts and salt, and cook, stirring regularly, until the sugar mixture begins to darken (often the mixture turns sandy before it re-melts and darkens, which is totally normal but this last time I added a bit more water and it didn't - I gave the recipe here as I made it, but don't worry if the sandy stage happens to you -- it will remelt). Turn the peanuts constantly with a heat-proof spatula as this happens, until the sugar is darkly-colored but not burnt (caution: this is a narrow window). Turn the peanuts out onto the cookie sheet, breaking them up into clumps if you can (if they're too hot or the sugar is trailing into whisps as you try, just wait until they've cooled and hardened and you can do it then). Set aside.

To make the crust: Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.

Mix together the almond meal, cocoa powder, and sugar. Add the melted margarine, stirring to combine, and press the mixture into a 9" tart pan. The mixture will make a very thin layer -- this makes it a bit difficult to evenly distribute, but makes for a lovely end result. Bake ~10 minutes, until it colors very slightly. Set aside to cool.

To make the peanut butter filling: Whip together all of the filling ingredients until smooth. Taste and adjust as needed. Pour into your baked and cooled pie shell.

To make the chocolate filling and finish the pie: In a microwave or over a double-boiler, melt the chocolate (don't over-cook!), and allow to cool just slightly. Stir in the corn syrup.

Whip the 'cream' for 2-3 minutes, until light and fluffy and tripled in volume. Take a dollop of the whipped cream and stir it into the chocolate mixture to lighten, then gently fold the lightened chocolate into the cream. Gently spread the chocolate on top of the peanut butter filling. Chill the pie for several hours to set, then sprinkle with the candied peanuts and serve.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Sometimes you make something for dinner, and wonder why you are not making it almost every week. Like Korean pancakes.

What's not to love? They're easy, easy, easy. They involve one bowl and one pan (well, unless you want to make things quicker and get a few pans going), they have both vegetable and protein, and they're fairly cheap. And delicious. I'd tell you more, but I already did over at The Oregonian. Hello, weeknight inspiration! And if you want to follow your pajeon with a dessert pancake, you can also find the recipe for this swedish saffranspannkaka.

Also if you want a bit more cabbage than the paejon provides, check out my cabbagetastic spread from last week -- also at The Oregonian.

Monday, February 06, 2012

My
genetic roots may be in Eastern Europe, but my culinary heart belongs
to North Africa -- I have yet to find a saffron-lemon-parsley dish that I
don't like. These bright flavors are welcome any time, but especially
during the rainy slog of winter. And so I present to you this Sephardic fish with olives.

I recently spent a lovely afternoon with a couple of Sephardic
women from the Isle of Rhodes, learning about their traditional cuisine
(and snacking on sweet biscochos de huevo and savory boyikos -- more on
that sometime soon, I hope). I went home with a full stomach, and a
craving for lemony tomato sauce, for saffron and garlic and olive oil. I
pulled out a Sephardic Israeli cookbook I hadn't used in a while, and remembered a dish it had once inspired. And it was perfect.

This
olivey fish is bright and sunny, with a short list of ingredients
creating a surprisingly complex sauce. And, best of all, these exotic
flavors come together in a one-pot easy recipe -- just add some couscous,
rice or crusty bread to sop up the sauce (I also cooked up my favorite Moroccan carrot and chard salad,
but that's entirely optional). You start with olive oil and garlic (of
course), warmed up with a pinch of saffron and turmeric. This comes
together into a sauce with a bit of tomato puree and water, then gets a
briny hit of green olives. The fish simmers in this lovely mixture,
absorbing the flavors of the sauce. Then the whole dish is finished with
a bit of chopped cilantro and fresh lemon juice. The result is deep and
savory, but also light and bright. I had to stop myself from licking
the bowl.

Heat
the olive oil in a large skillet over a medium heat, then add the
garlic and sautee for a few minutes, until it just begins to brown. Add
the tomato puree (careful of spatters!), turmeric, saffron, stir for a
minute, and then add the water and olives. Bring the mixture up to a
simmer, and simmer for a couple of minutes, until it comes together and
thickens slightly. Season to taste with salt and pepper, then add the
fish fillets/steaks, nestling them in the sauce. Cover, and simmer
gently until the fish is almost done (the exact time will vary,
depending upon the type and size of the fish). When it's a few minutes
shy of done, add the cilantro, lemon juice, and hot sauce, stirring
gently to combine. Taste and season as needed. Re-cover and cook until done. Serve with crusty bread
or couscous.

Wednesday, February 01, 2012

I've
been having a lot of wintertime meals lately. Mushroom barley soup,
root vegetable pancakes, piles of whole wheat pasta. Warm and hearty,
and perfect for this dank and rainy season. But at the same time: a
whole lot of brown.

And so, when I saw this bright bevy on TheKitchn,
I was instantly smitten. Orange! And pink! All piquant flavors and
bubbly brightness, perfect for cutting through the wintertime mud.

The simple pink peppercorn-infused
syrup comes together in just a couple of minutes, and a handful of
kumquats can be sliced up while it cools. Add seltzer, and that's it. Easy! I had a few spoonfuls of pink peppercorns left over from a recent Turkish dinner party, and picked up a handful of in-season kumquats
from the store (if you haven't tried these tiny wintertime fruits, with
their confusing sweet-peel/sour-fruit dynamic, I highly recommend you
check them out).

I brought this drink to a neighborhood happy hour party, and it was a
huge hit (both as a punchy mocktail on its own and combined with a hit
of gin). It's sweet but not too sweet, and with a bright sour hit from the
kumquats and an addictive spicy note from the pink peppercorns. It's
the perfect tonic for the wintertime browns.

And, if
you'd like another bit of wintertime color, I recently produced a radio
story on a local fishing-shanty-inspired art festival in Minnesota. On a
frozen lake. It took me several hours to regain feeling in my toes, but
it was worth it. You can check it out over at NPR.

Place
the sugar, water, and peppercorns in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil
for one minute, then turn off the heat and let cool (you can move to the
fridge when it's cool enough). This step can be done in advance.

While
the syrup is cooling, thinly slice the kumquats, flicking/squeezing out
the seeds (they're fairly edible, so no worries if you don't get them
all, but in general people don't like seeds in their beverages). Place
the sliced kumquats in a large pitcher (or divide between three quart
jars). Pour a little of the cooled syrup over them, and muddle with a
muddler (or the handle of a wooden spoon) to smush the kumquat slices
and release their oils and juices.